


Once a Lover, Always a Friend

by SexuallyMonsterous (Alli_Bialystock)



Category: Silicon Valley (TV)
Genre: An Excuse to Write About Erlich Being Sad and Also Banging, Angst, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-01
Updated: 2015-07-01
Packaged: 2018-04-07 03:09:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4247103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alli_Bialystock/pseuds/SexuallyMonsterous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Richard doesn't remember their night together. Erlich can't forget it. Occurs during S01EP04, "Fiduciary Duties."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Once a Lover, Always a Friend

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I really just wanted to write porn and also write about Erlich being miserable and vulnerable. This is what happened.  
> I can't quite figure out how I feel about ErlRich, but I've been weirdly obsessed with it lately. (And also there's implied Jarrich because of course there is.)

Erlich knew it was probably a bad idea to follow Richard into his bedroom after the Orgy of Caring. Richard was always so fucking cute and endearingly timid, and Erlich already thought way, way too much about the way his moans might sound (breathy and desperate and sweet). But Richard was a Goddamn mess and could barely get through his bedroom door, much less up the ladder to his loft, so Erlich didn’t have much of a choice but to help him out, especially since he knew Dinesh and Gillfoyle would never do it. Plus, Richard looked adorably messy in his rumpled bedsheet and all the drinks had put a hazy filter on Erlich’s vision, and it almost looked like Richard had a halo.

“You look like an angel,” Erlich murmured. He had his arms around Richard, supposedly to steady him on his way to bed, but they weren’t moving anymore and it dimly occurred to Erlich that he was just standing there and hugging Richard to his chest. He didn’t want Richard to be weirded out, but he didn’t want to let go, either.

Richard snorted. “Sure, whatever.”

“No, really. You do.” Erlich didn’t know why it was so important to him that Richard accept this.

“Then angels must look pretty fucking weird in whatever church you come from,” Richard snickered. His legs were beginning to give out, and he was sinking deeper and deeper into Erlich’s embrace. 

“No. Fucking listen.” Erlich shifted until he and Richard were looking into each other’s eyes. “You’ve got the curls, and the blue eyes, and the white robe, and the fucking golden halo and everything.” He tapped Richard’s plastic laurel wreath. “The only thing you’re missing is the wings.”

“And the good looks,” Richard replied. He seemed like he was trying to laugh, but he was breathless. Erlich thought he could feel him hardening against his thigh, and his mind began to spin.

“Richard.” His voice was soft and cajoling, a tone he went out of his way to avoid using because he knew it didn’t sound authoritative enough. It was the voice he had used as a terrified kid with a stutter that could never get anyone to stop laughing long enough to actually listen him. But Richard felt safe. Richard wasn’t going to tell him he wasn’t good enough. Soft, gentle Richard wouldn’t dare laugh at him. “Listen. You’re amazing, okay? At everything. In everything. You look perfect. You always look perfect, but tonight… you look really perfect. I don’t know, that might not make sense, but the point is that you are the best-looking motherfucker I’ve ever met, and I know you are, because if you weren’t I wouldn’t want you so fucking bad all the time.”

“Really?” Richard breathed. His big blue eyes looked glassy in the moonlight streaming through the window. He was a drunken mess – Erlich had never seen him drink so much before – and he was still swaying in Erlich’s arms, but fuck, he had given Erlich a seat on the board and seemed really, really okay with the way Erlich was cradling him, and so even if this maybe wasn’t the best idea ever or the most ideal, movie-perfect moment, it felt so right for Erlich to press his lips to Richard’s and run his fingers through the honey-colored curls he had spent so long wanting to touch.

Richard crumbled immediately, clumsily clutching the front of Erlich’s toga and groaning. His lips parted against Erlich’s and Erlich could still taste sweet whiskey on Richard’s tongue. Richard rocked against him, mewling with need. 

Somehow, they fumbled their way up the ladder and into Richard’s bed, both of them tearing at each other’s togas. Richard’s ended up bundled up around his chest, but the smaller man seemed completely unable to work through the knots on Erlich’s. 

Erlich grabbed Richard’s hand, stilling him, before slipping his toga and his shirt up over his head. His heart pumped in his throat as Richard looked up at him. ‘He’s going to be disappointed,’ a jeering voice in his head whispered as Richard’s eyes roamed his pale, soft stomach. ‘He’s going to laugh you out of the bed and you’re going to ruin the only chance you’ve got.’

Richard brought a hand to Erlich’s chest. He fought the urge to flinch.

Richard sat up, awkwardly divesting himself of his boxers. Erlich managed to catch a glimpse of his hard cock before he rolled to his knees. His eyes darted shyly upward as he laid a light kiss on Erlich’s stomach before drifting downward and taking Erlich’s cock into his mouth.

The both of them moaned as Richard bobbed his head, lapping at the underside of Erlich’s hard dick. A flick of Richard’s tongue made Erlich see stars. He wondered dimly if Richard had ever done this before, in spite of the blush on his cheeks and the self-conscious way he gazed up at him. Erlich gripped Richard’s hair tightly, earning a whimpering groan from Richard as he began roughly fucking Richard’s mouth.

At a small, keening sound from Richard, Erlich worried that he was being too harsh, but he was surprised to see Richard slip a hand below his hips to begin stroking himself. Richard moaned so desperately that Erlich nearly came from that alone.

Erlich wrenched Richard’s head back, pulling him up to give him a blistering kiss, moving from his lips down his jaw and onto his throat where he bit and sucked until the skin between his teeth bruised. Richard clung to him, gasping for breath. “Please,” he whimpered in Erlich’s ear, “please, I need you so bad. Please.”

Erlich sat up and grabbed his phone, switching on the video. He watched the scene before him mirrored on the small screen. He ran his hand down Richard’s stomach and brushed his cock. Richard cried out so loudly Erlich was worried the others would have heard. “Please,” Richard begged, almost tearful. “Oh God, Erlich, I need you to fuck me. I need you inside me.”

Erlich threw his phone and Richard back, almost too overwhelmed to speak. Richard fished around in the crack between the wall and the mattress and came up with a small bottle of lube. Erlich snatched it from him and spread it over his shaft. As he grabbed Richard’s knees, spread his legs wide, and lined himself up with Richard’s tight hole, he dimly thought, ‘Holy fucking hell, I’m fucking Richard Goddamn Hendriks.’

And then he was inside, surrounded by Richard’s tight heat, and the two of them moaned together. Erlich thought back to all the times he had fantasized about this and how he had imagined their long, slow, gentle lovemaking sessions in all their glorious detail, but he found he couldn’t hold himself back, couldn’t make it real this time. For now he wanted Richard fast and hard, to finally take ownership over his lithe body and make him his. There would be plenty of time to be tender later. For now, his whole body was sizzling with electricity and every quick, deep thrust sent shockwaves down his spine. Richard was pulling him closer, wrapping his legs tightly around Erlich’s waist and steeling himself against the bed frame.

“Oh fuck, Richard,” Erlich gasped. “God, I’m close!”

“Yessss,” Richard hissed as Erlich pounded him harder. “Yes, Erlich, I wanna feel you come, please!”   
Erlich leaned down and kissed Richard, nipping at his bottom lip. “Not until you come first,” he growled, and his hand wrapped around Richard’s cock, already dripping with precum, and shifted every so slightly inside of Richard.

That was all it took. Richard was babbling incoherent praise in Erlich’s ear. “Yes, Erlich, fuck me, yes, yes, fuck yes…” And then he came with a strangled cry, spilling hot cum over his stomach and Erlich’s hand. Feeling Richard tighten around him in waves proved to be too much for Erlich, and he shot inside of Richard with a hoarse whisper of, “Yes, Richard!” 

The two collapsed beside each other, sticky and breathless. “Shit,” Erlich whispered.

“Yeah. That was…” Richard laughed. “Yeah.”

Erlich grinned and wrapped an arm around Richard, pulling him tight to his chest. A sense of incredible calm and peace came over him and he allowed his eyes to flutter close, swimming in the warmth and stumbling joy that could only accompany the experience of being drunk, post-orgasm, and in love all at once.

 

Erlich sneaked out of Richard’s room before sunrise. He wanted to stay there all night – Richard had been curled against his chest and mumbling in his sleep in a way that made Erlich’s heart feel like it would burst. But Erlich was nothing if not prideful, and he didn’t want Dinesh and Gillfoyle to find out about him and Richard because they awkwardly stumbled out of the same bedroom. Plus, given how Richard’s stomach reacted to everyday stressors, he had to imagine hungover Richard would be spending most of the morning vomiting. 

Erlich had never made breakfast for anyone before, and he was pretty sure it wasn’t great. Other than boiling water and mixing packets together, he hadn’t really done any cooking, and even though he had never made pancakes before, he was fairly certain they weren’t supposed to look quite so pockmarked, but it would have to do for today. He would get better at it eventually. Considering Richard never seemed to wake up before noon, he’d probably have plenty of opportunities to make him breakfast.

“Is Sleeping Beauty awake?” he called, nudging open Richard’s door. There he was, owl-eyed and scruffy after a long night. Erlich’s heart fluttered. “Yes she is.” 

Richard muttered something Erlich couldn’t make out. The poor guy looked exhausted. “Here, I brought you something for your stomach,” Erlich continued, pushing the tray towards Richard. “Be forewarned, the orange juice has vodka in it. Little hair of the dog.” 

Richard blinked bemusedly at the tray and Erlich had to resist the urge to kiss him then and there. He had to at least give him a minute to process what was going on. “What exactly happened last night?” Richard asked, his voice croaky. “From your side?” 

Erlich’s stomach plummeted. 

He showed him the video of Richard putting him on the board of directors (he seemed to have picked up on that much), but he didn’t know how to tell them about their more personal developments. ‘He remembers,’ Erlich told himself as he left Richard’s room. ‘He’s got to remember. He’s just a little embarrassed.’ It was cute, Richard acting like a shy little virgin. Something about it almost made Erlich hard again just thinking about it.

Erlich didn’t see Richard again until the photoshoot that afternoon. When Richard walked out of the house, Jared was right next to him. Erlich felt a pang of jealousy. What the fuck had they been doing? Why was Richard avoiding him to go pal around with that skinny asshole? 

‘Who gives a fuck? I have Richard. I won, he lost. Fuck that guy.’

So when Richard dropped the bomb that he was off the board, he immediately thought of Jared. He thought back to that gangly fuck with his special fucking degree and his fucking simpering adherence to anything that Richard said and wanted to break that spindly Goddamn neck. 

Erlich was so angry he could barely see. Richard existed in a haze of hot red and now Richard was yelling too, and holy shit Erlich had never heard him yell before. The words “you took advantage of me” made his ears ring. Did he? Did he take advantage of Richard? Oh fuck, what did he do?

He wanted to apologize, or at the very least shut up, but he couldn’t make himself. The gates were open and he was babbling. ‘How could you do this to me?’ he kept thinking. ‘How the fuck could you kick your partner off the board?’

“I supported you, Richard!” Erlich yelled, his voice growing hoarse. “I bet on you! And now you’re just gonna give me a seat on the board, only to retract that offer?”

“I can’t even remember doing that!” Richard shouted. 

He didn’t remember.

He didn’t remember giving Erlich the board position.

Which meant he almost certainly didn’t remember anything.

“Oh, really?” Erlich whipped out his phone, his fingers shaking. “Well, do you remember this particular dick-bag I got on video?”

“Put it away,” Richard sighed, looking around uncomfortably.

“It’s right here. Goddammit!”

“I’ve seen the video!”

But that wasn’t the video Erlich wanted to show him. No, he wanted to show Richard how fucking much Richard loved him, how much he needed him, how he had fucking begged for him and how he couldn’t just turn his back on that. But he was too flustered, too angry, and his fingers were fumbling with his phone and he could feel tears pressing against the backs of his eyes. He couldn’t do this in front of Richard. He couldn’t do this.

He didn’t have to. Richard left before the tears came.

 

Erlich knew he was being an asshole to Richard, but he couldn’t help himself. For the next several days, he didn’t say a single non-snide remark anywhere near Richard. Most of the time he just hid in his room, nursing his wounds. He watched P.S. I Love You on repeat and cried into his pillow while Richard and fucking Goddamn shitbag Jared palled around in the living room. He could never forgive him, never. His heart ached so constantly he thought he was dying. His eyes grew so dry they ached. If he wasn’t eating or sneering behind Richard’s back, he was crying or sleeping in a drug-induced stupor that was filled with dreams of Richard’s sweet moans.

 

‘Okay, this is almost definitely a terrible idea.’

That didn’t stop Erlich. He took the stairs two at a time (not matter how winded he got, which was extremely) up to Peter Gregory’s waiting room. 

And there Richard was with, of course, Jared. Richard was wild-eyed and messy-haired and wearing baggy khakis, and Jared was looking anxious and wearing what seemed to be soaking wet high waters. 

Erlich looked at the two of them for just a moment and felt his stomach hollow out. He didn’t know what had happened between them, but the fact was that Richard was actually there and not vomiting, and even though Erlich couldn’t imagine for a moment why they were wearing each other’s pants, he did realize one thing: whatever had happened here, Jared had handled it. And he had handled it well. A lot better than Erlich, with his petty bullshit and his stupid macho posturing, could have. 

And he would have to learn to deal with it.

Erlich started rambling. He barely kept track of anything that he was saying, because in his mind, it all sounded the same:

“I’m sorry. I love you. Let me help. Please just let me be near you.”

And then Richard said the last thing Erlich expected to hear. “No, Erlich, I want you there.” 

That was it. No, Richard didn’t remember what happened, and he had no clue how Erlich felt about it. Maybe he would never know, and maybe he would never care. Sure, he would probably always go to Jared first when he was freaking out in Peter Gregory’s bathroom, and he would almost definitely never go to Erlich for emotional support. But in this moment, in this place, Richard had confirmed the only thing Erlich needed.

Richard wanted him there.

And Erlich would make sure he would always have it.


End file.
